cronechronicler

You don't know where you are going. You don't know how to get there. And you arrive just the same. Ghanaian saying

Haiku: New Household Member

It arrived by mail
Sat quarantined in bathtub
Til time for debut

Cute little laptop
Took bow under son’s guidance
New passwords and such

We await tech guy
Called to transfer apps and files
From old home to new

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Haiku: Going Wireless

Computer’s dying
One more dire adjustment
Nothing seems the same

A little laptop
New writing companion
I won’t miss the wires.

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Haiku: Back to the Future

Tuck pointers make dust
Hard at work pool guys plant trees
I found something lost

Changes at WordPress
Undid Haiku construction
I almost gave up

Found my latest posts
On original theme site
Long gone and renamed

Poetry By Heart
Using Classic Editor
Breathes new life in me

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Haiku: Constructive Possibilities

Tuck pointer drills squeal
Attack old crumbling mortar
Banish the raindrops
No longer mop ups
No towels on window sills
All's well for a time
Ancient skills remind
In midst of present chaos
Hope for new outcomes

 

 

 

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Haiku: Refreshment

Breeze through my window
Chirping birds human voices
Sweet signals of hope

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To High School Grads With No Ceremony 2020

You won’t march with your classmates
No Pomp and Circumstance
Cap, gown and diploma
Virtual accouterments
Form base and beginning
Springboard for the future
Where you go from here
Is your own creation
Hats off to you!

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Coronovirus Hijinks

The High Tech Pool Company is putting in a new swimming pool for my apartment building. Keeping up with their daily progress is one of the things I do while I am socially distancing myself.

Today I saw that the workers had put up a tent – the fancy square kind with a triangular top – in the empty shallow end of the pool and were eating lunch. I haven’t seen this before. But the clock said noon so what else would they be doing?

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Haiku: Life In the Time of Covid-19

Wind howls like Winter
Blooming trees herald Springtime
My window sole view

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Musical Accompaniment

Back in the fifties
In my teenage years
Music was all about dancing

We slow-danced and we jitterbugged
Answering rhythms with our feet
Bodies young and happy

Legendary Red Tops band
In the Mississippi Delta
Had a tune which stopped the show

When Rufus McKay sang Danny Boy
Golden trumpet soaring high
We stood still entranced

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Fashion Statement

Fringe hangs over my eyes
Now tickles my nose
Neck just a mess
Coiffures in vogue
Indiscriminate styles
Ever since haircuts became
Obsolete

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